


Smoke on Glass

by StrikeTeamDelta (panicsdownpour)



Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicsdownpour/pseuds/StrikeTeamDelta
Summary: He's been pestering Natasha for months to take a day off. An unplanned-for blizzard forces them both to take a breather. New found talents, good tries, and long forgotten memories keep their vacation from getting too boring.





	Smoke on Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gr8escap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr8escap/gifts).



> Written as a gift for the lovely gr8escap , for Buckynat Secret Santa 2017! Hope you had a lovely holiday and enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it- the flu has me a little delayed but chapter two following right behind!
> 
> Prompts: Snowed In + Baking

James had been watching out the window for the better part of the six a.m. hour, watching the flurry of flakes that had alternated between a downpour and a dusting. It had been a long time since he had experienced snow the likes of which was on display. There had been feet upon feet of snow in Russia during his Soldier days, but then it was just an object delaying mission completion, but nothing that would ultimately stop him- and it was such a constant, heavy, depression of white and gray that it bore no surprise with it. But that day, waking in their SHIELD issued apartment at the outer edges of Boston, warm and comfy and clad in soft flannel pajama bottoms, reminded him of snow days off from school when he was kid. When the snow had been so high it had come up past his skinny eleven year old knees and he and Steve and the other kids in their rough and tumble Brooklyn neighborhood would go sledding at the park and sometimes even on the manmade lake a little ways further, when he could get out from under his mother's watchful eye and have a little extra fun. When they finally came in as kids, they were nearly frost-bitten, with damp boots and red noses, ears tinged pink and everything painfully tingly for a good hour in front of the radiators. The pain and the process had always been a reminder of comfort, of home, of gratefulness more than it was a nuisance.

Upon noting the frost icing over their hall window on his way to the bathroom at just a few hours before Natasha's alarm was set to go off for a meeting, James had taken care of business before turning up the heat, silently clicking off Natasha's two alarm clocks (the second was a precaution, in case the power went out overnight), and taking up vigil on the window ledge farthest from where Natasha slept. That way he could crack the window open to get a better look and maybe stick his finger in the fluffy stuff, without chilling Natasha who was sprawled out in their king bed, a sheet and an extra blanket atop their duvet.

  
It was where Natasha found him after a swearing session and a crash, a button-up shirt of his pulled on, and a yelled question of what time it was and why the hell her alarms were switched off.

  
"You couldn't be late if you tried, huh? I thought for sure you might actually sleep-in this time-" James had begun to explain as Natasha stalked through the apartment, halting not more than two yards away.

  
"What do you mean? Did you-?” Natasha caught sight of the silent chaos swirling outside after a well-placed hand in defense was raised by her partner, palm out, and his other pointing towards the window.

  
"Well..." she took pause, but it was hardly enough to put her off, though it did soften her expression and slow her tirade. "This is Boston. It can't be worse than Moscow. How bad is it?" James hopped off the ledge, made his way methodically along the set of windows, unlocking the mechanisms one at a time until he could push a second window open and further open the first, propping it open. 

With the large windows pushed out and opened wide, you could see a view of the city the likes of which James was sure someone would pay a nice chunk of change for. One of those hipsters, the ones with the fake glasses and the trust funds- they'd kill for this. But James's focus was on the snow ultimately, his smile widening at the expanse before them, Natasha on her toes to get the best view of what the window provided. It was a long survey she conducted before there was any sign of conceding.

"Any word on the road conditions? The plows? A salt crew?"

He was behind her, arms slipping around a slim waist and nose pressed into the crook of her neck, stubbled smile outlined against pale skin, coloring with the breeze. "I'm sorry to say, the forecast is saying you have an unscheduled day off, dollface. It's at two and a half feet, set to snow for the rest of the day and freeze here and there until nine tomorrow.”

It was a visible struggle in her expression for a half a minute, until finally defeat and a degree of relaxation won out. He could he see it- blizzard, for the win. He wouldn’t take the credit. 

"I'm calling in to see what they want to do..." she muttered, untangling herself gently from his hold that gave way easily, unbothered. "Okay. I'll be here. But in a minute I'm making waffles and hot chocolate, and you ain't havin' any if you're still pouting and plotting on how you're getting into work. Got it?" he announced to the redhead's retreating back. Natasha had a hard time fighting the smile on her lips, but she just kept walking, aside from waving a dismissive hand as she walked away to find where her cell phone had fallen the night before.

  
Eight minutes and a short conversation later, she was heading into the kitchen, plopping down at the card table they had set up in the kitchen as part of their resolution to have more sit down meals at home ( wherever home was any given day or in a given city). "Snow day it is. Do we have blueberries?" Said as if she had never been trying to fight her way to work to begin with, he noted with silent amusement. James didn't miss a beat, pointing out the jars of berry sauces on the counter, lids all opened and a little bit sticky. "You betcha. Along with lingonberry, strawberry, cherry, and blackberry, in case her highness has a change of tastes."

"I've never taken a snow day.” Natasha admitted thoughtfully, rising to fish a cherry from the jar with a spoon and pop it in her mouth, while her partner whisked batter in a large glass bowl. The announcement was met by a grin that could only be described as thrilled, as James shook his hair away from his eyes and prepared to ladle the mix he had created onto the hot waffle iron he had prepared

"Lucky for you, my favorite thing to do between Thanksgiving and Valentine’s Day was convince my mother that school was shut once the temperature dropped below 40. When the weather actually backed up my lyin’- that’s when the snow day magic happened. I'll show you how it's done. You just sit tight.”


End file.
